Dear Draco
by Raven55
Summary: Pansy writes Draco a letter, the only way she can make him face a truth he doesn't want to see.


**Disclaimer: **I own nothing

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**Dear Draco**

I have to bite my lip when I see her blowing you kisses. My hand curls into a fist uncontrollably and I have to turn away in order to hide my burning face.

That cow.

Don't you see what she does? Of course you don't. You can't realise you're being used when your head is still on cloud nine. But _I_ see it. She smiles sweetly at you when both of you think no one sees, but when even you've averted your gaze, she turns to her friends and laughs. She points and giggles, but you can't see past that curtain of red hair that hides her smirk.

Is that what you left real love for? Did you leave me for that little devil?

I stormed up the staircases and found myself in front of the entrance to her Common Room once. I had to feel her presence there, just that one time. I thought it'd make me understand your decision. But there, inside that crimson haven, that is where she mocks you. That is where she shows her true face.

You don't honestly think she is true to you, do you? Can you really believe she keeps herself untainted for you? I don't want to call you dumb, but somehow I can't avoid doing that. You're proving yourself dumber and dumber every time you say goodbye to her with that loving look in her eyes. A look you once had used only for me.

Do you remember those days? I do. It's all I can think about lately. I can't help it. After all, you keep throwing it in my face with all those little gestures towards her. Oh, I recognise all of them. The little swish of your hand as you touch hers in the corridor just quick enough so no one will see, the way your head turns when she walks by, the longing look you award her with every time you see her...once those gestures were directed solely at me.

The thought of having to share them with anyone else hurts. But realising that it's not just anyone, but _her,_ disgusts me so much that I have to fight back the urge to throw up.

I've thought about it so much, trying to find an answer, but whenever I think I've almost got it, it flees from me. Please Draco, you need to tell me...I need you to explain to me how you could have chosen her. _Her!_

After everything you did to her before, after all the things you called her and after everything you put her through...How could you have changed your mind about her like that, the way you did? I never took you for a fool, but I suppose I have no other choice now.

Tell me Draco, have you honestly never seen that cold glance in her eyes, that glint that screams revenge?

Everyone knows about the two of you. Even Blaise does. He finds it funny, he said, to see his best friend fall for the charms of the only beautiful muggle-lover our school has. And even though no one might speak about it, they all know and they all laugh. Draco Malfo has fallen, they whisper.

Especially those Gryffindors gloat. But they don't just laugh because of how stupid you look, doting on her after all those years of torture. They laugh at you because of your blindness. You can't make me believe that you've never seen the look she gives Potter, the way she sways her hips for him and the way she licks her lips in anticipation when he whispers something sweet into her ear...

Those kisses she gives you are fake and I can't get myself to understand how you don't taste the insult in every single one of them. And you not seeing that is an even greater insult to me. Apparentally my kisses must have felt the same to you, which means mine felt fake too...Which means you never realised how much my heart was filled with only you.

She doesn't deserve you nor do you deserve what she does to you. And I _know_ I should feel pity for you. I know I should feel that I can be there for you.

But, strangely, I find that I no longer care enough to put myself out there and get burnt again. I'll not spend years to try and heal your wounds, someone who inflicts them on himself doesn't deserve that.

The only reason I summoned up my courage to put this quill down to paper was to try and limit the damage you yourself can't control. It is my duty as a friend to tell you what you should have seen yourself and that's why, and only why, I wrote this.

All that rests me now is to tell you that this is also my last duty to you as a friend. There is nothing left between us, nothing left for me to fight for. And if there is one thing I did learn from you, it's never to fight for a lost cause.

- Pansy


End file.
